A poem by Philip Appleman (Courtesy of Phil Palin)
pump frenzy into air ducts
and rage into reservoirs,
and drown cities,
cry fire in theaters
as the victims are burning,
I will find my way through blackened streets
and kneel down at your side.
jump the median, head-on,
and obliterate the future,
fit .45′s to the hands of kids
and skate them off to school,
flip live butts into tinderbox forests
and hellfire half the heavens,
in the rubble of smoking cottages
I will hold you in my arms.
send kidnappers to kindergartens
and pedophiles to playgrounds,
wrap themselves in Old Glory
and gut the Bill of Rights,
pound the door with holy screed
and put an end to reason,
I will cut through their curtains of cunning
and find you somewhere in the moonlight.
Whatever they do with their anthrax or chainsaws,
however they strip-search or brainwash or blackmail,
they cannot prevent me from sending you robins,
all of them singing: I’ll be there.